


Hide These Scars

by MeteoraWrites



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Blood, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, How is that not a tag, Light Angst, M/M, Mick Doesn't Realize He's Injured, Mick Rory's Burn Scars, Nerve Damage, Pre-Slash, ray to the rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:49:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeteoraWrites/pseuds/MeteoraWrites
Summary: Mick doesn't trust many people with the truth about how bad the damage from his burn scars actually is. He really should have told at least one of the other Legends...





	Hide These Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my Doesn't Realize They've Been Injured square on badthingshappenbingo

Very few people knew just how badly scarred Mick Rory was under all of those layers of thick clothing he so often wore. Len knew, but he was there when Mick got most of the burns. Lisa knows because she tracked Mick down after he escaped the ambulance after the damage was first done and helped take care of him during those first excruciating weeks. Stein had seen his upper body from a distance once, but the man never said a word about it. And then there was Ray. Ray, who has seen every inch of his scars thanks to their short time spent together in that Russian Gulag. He caught him staring in the shower before they were tortured, and he nearly ripped his head off for it. 

The other legends saw hints of the damage over time. The burns that showed at the edge of his shirt collar or on his hands when he took off his gloves. He’s made a point of always wearing long sleeves around them. Around anyone that he wasn’t fully comfortable with. Because his scars look like a weakness to others.  _Can_  be a weakness if the wrong person finds out the extent of the damage done. And he is not weak. He doesn’t ever want to be viewed that way.  

It’s fairly common for burn scars to be incredibly sensitive. It’s just how the skin heals. But a lot of people don’t know that if the damage is bad enough, and not treated properly right away, it can do major damage all the way to the nerves or even bone. Some people that kind of damage causes to have chronic pain. Others, well it gives them patches of skin without feeling. You can feel pressure. But warmth, cold, pain, all that is lost if the damage is deep enough. 

Mick has several places on his body that had the latter type of damage. On both arms, his right side over his ribs where they wrap around and under his arm, his left thigh. Even a section of his back is without sensation. He feels pressure if it’s applied, but he can’t discern what’s causing it or if he’s injured there if he can’t see it.  

Nobody knew that bit of information but Len and Lisa. 

He probably should have told at least one of the Legends. 

The creature they had been after on their latest mission was a tough one. Large and clawed with a tale like a whip. It looked like nothing any of them had ever seen before. It had struck Mick across the chest with said tail, grabbed him with a massive clawed hand when he was on the ground, and tossed him into the muddy river not even twenty feet away. 

He’d insisted he was fine after. Bruised and pissed off. But otherwise fine. 

He was wrong. 

He’d started to feel dizzy on the walk back to the ship. So, of course, he ignored it. Figured it was probably from being thrown around like a ragdoll. He didn’t feel hurt worse than some scrapes and bruises, and as far as he could tell he wasn’t bleeding anywhere.  

Everyone told him to go hose off when they got back to the ship. He was muddy and dripping all over the floor as they entered through the hatch in the cargo hold. He grunted a response about they weren’t much better off, but otherwise didn’t protest and headed off to go get cleaned up. 

The dizziness only got worse as he walked down the long stretch of hallway that led to the closest bathroom to his quarters. He’d started to stagger, vision blurring as he leaned heavily against the wall to support himself. He was unconscious moments later. 

Ray had been heading to the storage room he kept the mop and cleaning supplies in. Intent on trying to make Mick mop up after himself once the pyro was done showering and changing clothes. He didn’t get very far down the hall before he noticed something off about the color of the mud that was left behind in Mick’s wake.  

Crouching down near one footprint, he reached out and dragged his fingers through the muddy mess. When he pulled them back for closer inspection, he found a bright red sheen of still warm blood mixed into the dirt and grime. 

“Gideon! Where’s Mick?” He asked as he jumped up and took off sprinting down the hall. 

“Mr. Rory appears to be unconscious in the next corridor. Shall I alert the other Legends?” The smooth voice of the A.I. asked. 

“Yes!” Ray replied loudly, already rounding the corner to the next hallway. Mick was slumped against the wall, body at an awkward angle where he’d slid to the floor upon passing out. There was a puddle of blood forming on his right side, the color of it only just noticeable on his slowly drying clothes. If he hadn’t gotten the dark material wet they might have noticed sooner. 

“Gideon can you tell me where he’s injured?” Ray asked, already trying to move the pyro so he was laid out flat on the floor and easier to search for injuries. 

“There appears to a laceration across Mr. Rory’s right side between the fourth and fifth ribs.”  

Sure enough, when Ray checked there was a small cut through the other man's jacket, and a larger one through his shirt where a claw likely got through the material. The wound wasn’t bleeding very fast, but it was still bleeding enough that over the twenty minutes it had taken them to return to the WaveRider Mick lost enough blood to pass out. 

Ray pressed down on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, grateful when Nate and Constantine appeared around the corner a moment later to help bring the pyro to the med bay. 

They had to cut Mick’s shirt down the front to get access to his injury, which, once that was done several of the others looked away. Clearly feeling like they were seeing a part of Mick the older man never wanted to share. The scarring was bad, not as bad as his arms or back, but it was still a gnarly mess of mangled tissue where it had never been treated by a doctor and allowed to heal properly. 

They got the bleeding under control, and Gideon was able to close the wound and set Mick up with fluids and a transfusion.  

The other legends all filtered out as soon as possible once Mick was in the clear. Even Sara, who made Ray promise to let her know when Mick was awake enough to tell her what happened. 

Of course, Ray stayed. Waiting for the other man to wake up in his own time. He was too worried to be anywhere else right now, even if he wanted to be. He knew Mick would be fine. But what he couldn’t wrap his mind around was Mick not telling them he’d been hurt so badly. It was a deep cut. With enough blood loss that he had to have been feeling out of it long before he collapsed. He just didn’t get it. 

A deep groan pulled Ray from his worrying, drawing his eyes up from the floor to where Mick was raising a gloved hand to rub at his eyes. When he took his hand away, he blinked a few times, hazel eyes taking a moment to focus. He grunted in annoyance when he realized he was in the med bay. 

“Hey,” Ray said softly, drawing the pyro’s gaze to him. He gave a small smile, which Mick stared blankly at. “You passed out. That demon got you pretty good. You lost a lot of blood, but we got you patched up and Gideon has you on an IV.” 

Mick’s eyebrows rose in surprise before he lifted his head and looked down at himself. His jacket and shirt were still on, though his torso was exposed where they had to cut his shirt. There was a bandage over his ribs where they had covered up the gash that ran through an intimidating mess of scar tissue.  

“Son of a bitch...” he grumbled, letting his head fall back against the headrest of the medical bed. 

“You’re going to be fine. Gideon said it missed hitting anything vital. Just a deep flesh wound.” Ray explained, eyeing the other man carefully as he rose from his seat and took a few steps closer. He stopped beside Mick’s bed, noting that he had closed his eyes again. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ray asked after a moments silence, his voice low, with a clear note of confusion in it. 

Mick snorted in response before opening his eyes and looking up to meet Ray’s gaze. “Didn’t feel it.” 

Ray almost scoffed at that. “How could you not have felt it? That was a really bad cut, Mick. Frankly I don’t even know how you walked back to the ship without passing out sooner.” 

Making a sound of annoyance, Mick forced himself up to sitting to be closer to the other man’s eye level, much to the protest of the younger man. 

“I got nerve damage all over my body, Haircut. Can’t feel a damn thing in at least half my scars. I always gotta check ‘em after a mission t’ make sure I didn’t get hurt someplace I can’t feel,” Mick explains, his voice rougher than usually and clearly looking uncomfortable sharing this bit of information. 

“Why didn’t you tell us? We’re a team, Mick. We’re supposed to look out for each other.” Ray asks after taking a moment to process this new information. 

“Would you want everyone knowin’ you got a weakness like that? I c’n literally be stabbed in the back ‘n not feel it 'til it's too late.” The pyro grumbles, pointedly not looking at the other man now. 

Before he could change his mind, Ray lays a hand on Mick’s shoulder, making the pyro turn his head back, hazel eyes meeting Ray's brown ones. “You know I would never hurt you like that, right? You could have told me.” 

Mick studies his face a moment before looking at where Ray’s hand was still resting on his shoulder. He didn’t look annoyed by the contact, more like tired and resigned. He heaved a sigh before meeting Ray’s gaze again. “I know. ‘m not good at all this, ‘kay...” He says quietly before letting his eyes close again. He looks exhausted, and still a bit pale. 

Ray gets it. Mick’s only ever had a few people he’s really trusted. One’s dead and the other is back in their own time having her own life. “I get it,” he says softly, letting his hand squeeze Mick’s shoulder lightly. Mick lets out a little huff of a sigh at it and leans into the contact a bit subconsciously. 

“Why don’t you rest a while longer and when you’re up for it we can watch one of your favorite movies? I’ll make popcorn.” Ray offered, smiling when Mick opens his eyes again and looks a bit surprised. 

“Real popcorn. With butter. Not that crap with yeast flakes that you try t’ make everyone eat ‘nstead.” Mick counters after considering Ray’s words with a wary expression on his face. 

“Real popcorn, Scouts honor.” Ray promises, smile growing into a grin. He gives Mick’s shoulder one last squeeze before letting go and turning to walk away. 

“Hey, Haircut,” Mick calls after, making him stop and turn back at the door. “Thanks.” 

The look Mick is giving him is one of those rare unguarded ones, and it makes Ray feel warm all over. “Any time. Get some rest. I’ll see you in a few hours.” He promises before disappearing out the door, mind going over this new development and level of trust between them.  

Back in the med bad Mick is doing much the same, a warmth in his chest and a smile on his face as he lays back down and tries to get some rest. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to [Check out my Tumblr](https://meteora-writes.tumblr.com) for story update schedules and other info <3


End file.
